


There! A Llama!

by redscudery



Series: Scudery's Saturday Night Fic Fest [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Aural Kink, Llamas, M/M, Making Up, Oral Sex, Scudery's Saturday Night Fic Fest, Sherlock's Voice, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 11:31:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redscudery/pseuds/redscudery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel of sorts to "Llama Llama What?":  http://archiveofourown.org/works/1093397</p><p>Cemm said: I have decided that llama tags are a good thing and perhaps a fic is needed on Sherlock paying john back perhaps while wearing the llama suit and maybe please pretty please doing something naughty with his gorgeous mouth and or tush...pretty please!</p><p>So here you go, Cemm. I pick mouth!</p>
            </blockquote>





	There! A Llama!

“You want me to put on the llama suit and suck you.” Sherlock’s flat statement sent a thrill of both desire and hilarity through John’s body.

“As much as I think you deserve it, no. All I said was that I think you should make it up to me.”

“I can tell that’s what you want, though.”

“Well, I always want you, so you’re not wrong there.” John enjoyed watching Sherlock’s eyes darken for a moment, “And yes, I would like you to wear the llama suit, preferably somewhere public.”

“I’m not wearing it anywhere that that gang of imbeciles from the Yard can see me.”

“I rather thought I’d post a picture of you wearing it on my blog.”

Sherlock’s raised eyebrow was eloquent. John grinned.

“Nothing for it, then. It’ll have to be sexual favours.”

“So predictable, John.” Sherlock unfolded himself from the couch and came towards John, a predatory gleam in his eye. 

“I didn’t necessarily mean right now, Sherlock.”

“I don’t like to have debts hanging over my head.”

“There’s still the llama suit.”

“Bugger the llama suit.” Sherlock said, sinking to his knees in front of John’s chair. His long fingers ran up John’s thighs to his flies. 

“Umm.. Sherlock? Did you even apologize for making me wear a llama suit?” 

“And why do you ask that right this minute?” The button on John’s trousers was open, and Sherlock paused, his hands on the zip.

“Well, it seems to me that it would be much more… pleasurable… for me if you were to tell me you were sorry. While you were doing this. You know how I feel about the sound of your voice, and, well…” John was a little pink now, but he continued, “I do like to hear you say you were wrong.”

“So childish.”

“If you’ll say you’re sorry, childish is a small price to pay.”

“Hmmm…” Sherlock had gotten the zipper all the way down now, and he kissed the strip of skin just above the elastic of John’s pants. His voice vibrated over John’s groin and John arched up into him. 

“John, I’m…” Sherlock drew out the ‘m’ sound and John shivered, “sorrryyyy.” 

His hands worked both John’s trousers and pants down, two or three centimetres, and his mouth followed. John could feel the heat of Sherlock’s breath through the fabric.

“I’m sorrry, Johnnnn,” This time the vibration was right over the sensitive spot at the base of his cock, and John exhaled in a rush of breath, “So sorryyyy.”

“You,” John gasped, “think you’re very funny, do…” Sherlock did it again “…n’t you? Bastard.”

“Yessssss.” With that, Sherlock slid his long fingers into John’s pants and freed his cock, admiring its thickness and hardness as it sprung loose. Sherlock trailed his tongue up the underside, then around the head. Setting his mouth to the tip, Sherlock said it again. 

“Sorry, John. My error…” his mouth opened slightly, taking in the tip. 

“Was…” Mouth closed again; John pushed, just a bit, but Sherlock held him down.

“Inexcusable.” Only then did Sherlock take him in, the head first, with just a little suction, then as much as he could, one smooth hand engulfing the rest of him. John’s head was thrown back, his body sprawled loose and abandoned in his chair. Sherlock permitted himself one gloating look before bending to his task in earnest.

When John began to tense and thrust towards his mouth, Sherlock pulled back a bit; his hand took over, gliding over John’s wet cock. John’s breath was erratic, hitched, his body tensed and beautiful.

“Look at me, John,” Sherlock said, rumbling low against him. 

With an effort, John lifted his head and looked down. Sherlock was glorious, his mouth wet and red, his eyes dark, his hair tousled. 

“I am so sorry.” 

It was enough. John came, hard, driven over the edge by the sound and sight and feel of Sherlock on his knees. 

___________

 

The next morning, John woke up alone. When he picked up his mobile to check the time, his screen saver was a picture of Sherlock in the llama suit.


End file.
